


Sentiment

by PhoenixFeather0198



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-22
Updated: 2014-06-24
Packaged: 2018-02-05 18:29:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1828078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhoenixFeather0198/pseuds/PhoenixFeather0198
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just my own little collection of johnlock one-shots.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Come Home

**Author's Note:**

> Requests taken, so please ask! None will be particularly explicit. I'm not currently working on this, so if I do update, it'll be at random times and most likely without warning. I say one-shots, however I may do part 2 or 3s for some if I feel so inclined. I'll post if it's a continuation though.
> 
> This one is mostly texting. Also I think it's the most OOC as this was one of the first ever things I wrote for Sherlock and John, sorry in advance!

**** Come Home ****** **

"It's no problem, I hope you get well soon!" John said, closing his office door after his patient. Sighing, he looked at his watch: 2pm. Three hours left to go until he was free. His awful headache really wasn't helping matters either.

Beep.

Glancing down at his phone, John saw he had a new text from, surprise surprise, Sherlock.

How's the headache? –SH

How did he – oh never mind. It wasn't as if John was expecting him not to know after all. Pressing the reply button, he began to type:

Horrible. Luckily there's only 2 hours 57 mins left though. –JW

Counting down already John? –SH

Oh shut up. –JW

Why? I'm enjoying myself here. –SH

Rolling his eyes at his phone, John looked at his schedule. His next patient was due in half an hour. Leaning back in his chair, John closed his eyes. Him and Sherlock had been up for most of the night; doing a (most necessary) 'experiment'. It was fair to say the results had been worth it. However, he was exhausted – not that he was complaining, mind you.

His phone beeped again.

Bored. –SH

Entertain yourself then. –JW

I can't. You confiscated my gun and Lestrade doesn't have any cases worthy of my attention. –SH

Oh heaven forbid. –JW

There are other ways to entertain yourself than shooting the wall or showing off at a crime scene, you know Sherlock. –JW

I know. But I'll need you for that. ;) –SH

Haha. If I could help you, I would. However I am at work. And will be for the next 2 hours 49 minutes. –JW

Get un-working then. Or, start working… in a different way ;) –SH

My my, we are bored aren't we? –JW

Incredibly. –SH

Tell you what, after this patient, I'll take the rest of the day off. Deal? –JW

No. Sooner. –SH

No way! Ever heard the phrase 'patience is a virtue'? –JW

If I have I've deleted it. –SH

Of course. Although I know for a fact you're lying. –JW

Good deduction. Any evidence? –SH

Yep, I said it to you yesterday! –JW

Not bad John. Your deduction skills are (very slowly) improving! –SH

Well, I learn from the best ;) –JW

Correct. Sure you don't want to come home? I reckon we need a few more results for our 'experiment'. –SH

Scratch that. A lot more. –SH

I can't just do it by myself now, can I? –SH

Sherlock, stop it I am attending to a patient and you're incredibly distracting. –JW

You can attend to me any day you like John ;) –SH

Oh come on, I've been saving that one. –SH

Oh you're good John. I suppose I'll just have to conduct OUR experiment alone then… -SH

Please come home. –SH

I'm begging you now. And you know I never beg. –SH

Well, I beg for somethings if you get my drift. –SH

Please? -SH

I'll be there in 10 minutes. You git. -JW


	2. It's Been Three Years

** It's Been Three Years  **

Sherlock,

It's been three years now. Three years today. I still don't know what to do. Everyone's trying to help me through but they just don't understand. Greg gets the closest, but I just push him away. You never cared about anyone, and you managed just fine - so why shouldn't it work for me?

I visited your grave today. Nothing's changed much; apart from the flowers which I updated – you've got some azalea's now; the lady in the shop said they mean 'take care of yourself for me'. Please do. Hope you like them.

In case you wanted to know (which I sincerely doubt but I might as well tell you), me and my new girlfriend Anna broke up. After 3 days. Something about depression apparently. We had a fight which only made me feel worse because she said that I'm so miserable I might as well be dead but that's just it – I wish I was dead, Sherlock, then I'd be with you. After the fight I just went to Baker Street and curled myself up on your bed surrounded by your things and cried. I think I slept too. I know when I woke up it was morning. Mycroft visited yesterday. No news or anything, but he just came round to 'check up on me' – plant even more cameras around my flat more likely. Did you know I found on in the bathroom last week? Your brother is seriously starting to creep me out.

Oh and you know that letter that I wrote to you last week? The one ranting at you for not caring at all because you're a stupid git? Yeah well, I'm going to tell you something that I once told you before but it needs to be said again: Friends, Sherlock, protect people. Most of all, _your_ friends protect _you_.

But you don't have any friends, do you Sherlock? I had this one friend, in my life, who I believed loved me back. You know, in a friend way. But apparently not. And it tore me apart. So I just want you to know Sherlock, that if ever you feel like coming back to me, don't. Don't, unless you've realized that you need friends to live. You need me to live Sherlock, and I need you.

Please Sherlock. Don't be dead. Please.

Just for me. 

John.


	3. We Are Not Having A Moment

Sherlock opened his eyes after another trip into his mind palace.  _It really is quite beautiful there,_ he thought _, compared to 221B. Then again, John's not there, whereas he is in the flat_. Glancing around for the man, Sherlock was surprised to see no sign of him. Curious, he got off the sofa and stood up. Silent, Sherlock listened. He couldn't hear the soft whirr of John's laptop; the small creaks on the floor made by John when he was in his bedroom; nor the tell-tale, typically John-like, sound of the kettle humming. In fact, he could not see or hear John at all.

Not that Sherlock was particularly worried about this - when John first moved in he had frequently gone out during the night. However, seeing as him and Sherlock had recently become a little more than just flat mates, Sherlock supposed he should feel something by his absence.

Sweeping the room with his eyes again, Sherlock noticed a sticky-note taped to the door which he had not previously seen.

_Sherlock,_

_I don't know whether or not you heard - you do seem to literally go into another world when you do your mind palace thing - but Molly called, saying that she needed us to look over a body at St Bart's. As you're busy, I said I'd go. I should be back in an hour or so, if you need anything just call._

_See you soon, John x_

That explained the missing John then. Looking first at the note again then at his watch, Sherlock deduced that John wouldn't be back for another 45 minutes or so, judging by the state of the ink on the note. Sitting back down on the couch again, Sherlock tried to re-enter his mind palace once more. But, try as he might, he was distracted. So, getting up, Sherlock pulled on his coat and scarf, and set out to St Bart's; to John.  

* * *

John was bored. There was simply no other way of facing it. He had only been studying this body for about 15 minutes, yet already he was missing the company of his gorgeous flat mate - something which he thought he would  _never_ say. Molly's presence just didn't equal that of Sherlock's. John was missing Sherlock's constant running commentary of what John was doing, the way that every now and then John would say something that would make Sherlock's eyes sparkle in pride. It was the latter in particular that John loved about him the most. Despite Sherlock's constant telling him that he was an idiot, every so often Sherlock would look at John in genuine pleasure and satisfaction that made John's stomach squirm in happiness.

"John."

John jumped, consequently dropping the pair of tweezers he was holding.

"Sherlock?"

For there he was. Standing there in his coat and scarf, although John could just see a hint of stripped pyjama trousers from the bottom of his coat, was Sherlock, looking at him.

"Sherlock!" They both turned around. It was Molly who had spoken, coming into the lab holding a mug of tea for John. John rolled his eyes.  _Bring on the flirting,_ he thought to himself.

Taking the tea from her, Sherlock replied, "Yes, hello Molly. You can go home now if you want to, we'll be fine, I know Lestrade will be pleased."

"What... how... no, no, we're not..." Molly spluttered. Both Sherlock and John smirked.

"It's ok Molly, we won't say anything," John told her, still smirking. "Honestly!" He added, seeing the look on her face.

Still eyeing them warily, Molly said "Ok, I'll leave you guys to it. This place automatically locks down in 2 hours though, but if you need more time then Sherlock... well yeah you know how I presume." And without a backwards glance, Molly half-walked half-ran out of the room.

When she was gone, John turned to Sherlock, raising his eyebrows.

"Because the flat is lonely when it's just got me in it." Sherlock said, correctly interpreting John's silent question. At this, John smiled and walked over to Sherlock, giving him a small kiss on the cheek.

"Do you want to help then? Protective gloves are in the box over there - put a pair on and come over here." John instructed, walking back over to the dead body lying on the worktop.

Complying, Sherlock took off his coat and scarf, hung them up on a nearby coat peg, and pulled on a pair of protective gloves. Looking back at John, he saw that he was absorbed in the body, taking things out and putting them away in storage, glancing up at his computer every now and again to check a fact or figure.

They stayed this way for another 5 minutes or so, until John said with a smirk "Are you just going to stand there and stare at me, or are you coming to help?"

"What?" Replied Sherlock, having completely forgotten what he was meant to be doing. "Oh, right, dead body, coming just now." John grinned at him.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say that the great Sherlock Holmes just succumbed to sentiment!" He teased, winking at him. "Perhaps I should go, so he can fully focus on the proper task in hand..."

"No!" Sherlock replied, just a second to quickly. John gave him a smug look. "No, no, you don't have to go John. Please."

"Please?"

"Don't make me say it again, you know I hate the word."

"Get yourself over here then." This time, Sherlock did as he was told. Grabbing a bunch of equipment, he positioned himself opposite to John.

"So what's the situation, Doctor Watson?" Sherlock asked.

John frowned. "Haven't you already worked it out - probably much better than me anyway?"

"Obviously. However I want to see what you've gained from your time with our dead companion here."

"Alright then." John took a deep breath. "I know that she died in a gas explosion, judging by the state of her body. Also, she's been dead for about 6 days, which is annoying, because if Molly had let me take a look earlier then we would be able to know a lot more about her."

"Very good," Sherlock said, smiling at him. "Anything else?"

"Yes. However what's interesting is what happened to her after her death. See how her face is severely damaged? Molly said that that came from the explosion. But that can't be right. If it was due to it then the rest of her body would look like that, but it's only her face. Therefore somebody  _deliberately_ did this to her, most likely before the gas explosion, and used the 'accidental' explosion as a cover." John finished, feeling rather proud of himself. Looking up at Sherlock, who had been watching him intently, John was proud to see that Sherlock was smiling an impressed smile at him.

"Incredible. You really have learned something from me then, after all. You really are quite skilled, Doctor Watson."

"Thanks." John grinned. Bending back over the body, John continued his analysis. Unnoticed by him, Sherlock pretended to also be fiddling with various medical equipment. Slowly, he started to come closer and closer to John's body, finally stopping when there was less than a centimetre between them. Sherlock carefully wrapped his arms around him, grinning when John let out a small sigh.

Then, it was John's turn to grin as suddenly he spun around, grabbing Sherlock's collar.

"No. I am dissecting a body in the middle of the night. We are not having a moment." He told the taller man firmly.

Sherlock pouted. "Oh John come on! I'm bored, you're doing all the fun stuff whilst successfully turning me on, why can't we have a moment?"

"Because no that's why. Look-" John let go of Sherlock and walked over to the corner, pointing at a security camera. "This is still on. If we did anything, imagine who would be able to see it?"

Sherlock grinned a wolfish grin. " _Exactly._ " Crossing the room to John, he pulled the man into a long, deep kiss. John limply tried to struggle, but they both knew it was pointless. They both broke off, staring at each other.

"Oh what the hell!" John said, turning them so they were both in direct view of the camera, and kissing Sherlock with all the energy he could muster. Not complaining in the slightest, Sherlock proceeded to follow suit, slipping his hand under John's shirt.

Let's just say the dead woman's analysis wasn't exactly finished by morning.


End file.
